TouchedByMadness

Sometimes It Pays to Be Poor

I remember the days when I bought only whatever food was on special at the local supermarket, when I was barely able to make minimum payments on my credit cards, and when my “nice” clothes came from Target. It sucked living paycheck to paycheck. There’s no doubt about that. But there was one small (yet significant) benefit to being dirt poor . . .

I actually got a tax refund.

Nowadays I’m not poor, but I’m certainly not rich either. I foolishly assumed that my obvious not-wealthiness would translate into a decent tax refund this year. (This is where I’ll point out that accounting was never part of my school coursework.)

While I’m still at least a decimal place off from owning, say, a luxury car, I have managed to elevate my financial status into the “You’re getting hosed” tax bracket.

It would be one thing if I owed a little money. I’d be disappointed, but I’d get over it. I don’t owe a little money. I owe a LOT of money — something that would have been nice to know before putting a down payment on my new (used) car. So although I should be thrilled that I make twice the salary today than I did several years ago, in reality I spent my Sunday hollering about how I was being raped by the government.

The Captain informed me that the problem is that I don’t have enough deductions. I figure that means to prepare for next April I’d better start house-hunting since at this point my chance of popping out a kid by the end of the year is iffy.